


Talks of You, Dreams of You

by ThePrimeOne



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Cyril and Seteth A+ Support, Cysithea Week in February 2020 btw!, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:41:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21773857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePrimeOne/pseuds/ThePrimeOne
Summary: Cyril talks to Seteth about following a path with a certain someone.A hypothetical Cyril and Seteth A+ Support with a Cysithea twist.
Relationships: Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia
Comments: 2
Kudos: 77





	Talks of You, Dreams of You

The knock was quick and quiet like Flayn’s, but Seteth knew who it was the moment the sound registered in his ear who had knocked at his door. The man approached the door and opened it promptly, looking at the young man that stood before him.    
  
“Ah, Cyril. You are just in time,” Seteth smiled, stepping aside and letting him in.    
  
“Thanks, Seteth,” Cyril mumbled, his head hanging low. Curious, Seteth tilted his head in thought watching him quickly take a seat at the table in his quarters. Quickly walking towards the chair opposite the young Almyran man, Seteth prepared some tea- Almyran Pine Needles specifically. Seteth silently pushed the tea cup towards Cyril, the young man quickly taking a sip before placing it down back down onto the saucer, the earthy taste of the pine needles helping Cyril calm down, even if it was just a little.    
  
“So. What is it that you would like to discuss with me? I can only assume it is something quite sensitive, judging by your demeanor when you asked to meet with me some days ago,” Seteth spoke,   
  
Seteth noticed the sound of a boot hitting the wooden floor, bouncing up and down at a rapid pace. Cyril was clearly quite anxious about whatever he wanted to discuss with Seteth.    
  
“Do…” Cyril began, the words dying in the back of his throat. Seteth did not speak, and simply sat in wait for the young man to speak up when he was ready. “Seteth. Do you remember our conversation we had a little while ago? Ya know, the one about finding my own path?”   
  
Though Seteth’s interest was already piqued the question only seemed to pique his interest even more. Seteth crossed his arms prior to answering.   
  
“Yes. Quite clearly, in fact. Why do you ask? Have you perhaps found a path of your own you would like to follow?”   
  
Cyril bit his lip, nodding ever so slightly. Seteth’s eyes widened, a smile breaking out into the man’s face. “Well then, I am happy for you Cyril; and as I said before I’m know Rhea will be happy- no, overjoyed that you’re finding your place in the world beyond Garreg Mach.” Seteth replied with a genuine smile.   
  
“But that’s the thing,” Cyril sighed. His voice trailed off into silence, his hands gripped around the teacup, staring into the reflection of his deflated and defeated expression in the tea itself. Cyril couldn’t help but feel pathetic. “I did find a path, yeah, but I… I don’t know if it will last.” Cyril croaked, his voice cracking.   
  
Seteth’s eyes widened in alarm, unfolding his arms and leaning forward on the table.    
  
“You… you don’t know if it will last? Though it is undeniable that nothing lasts forever, I am rather curious. Whatever do you mean?”   
  
Cyril took another sip of the Almyran Pine Needle Tea, and for a few moments, the tea seemed to wash away the anxious and nervous feelings within him, allowing Cyril to gain the confidence to speak, but not look Seteth in the eye.   
  
“My path I want to follow… I want to follow a path alongside someone else. And not as a servant- but as their equal. I want to be at their side long after the war is over.”   
  
Seteth’s eyes widened. He knew of the feeling he was referring to. It was one he had felt long ago, and one he had not felt himself for a very long time. Seteth looked at Cyril with a knowing smile. “I see. And this person you wish to walk down a new path with at their side- are you afraid that they will not reciprocate your feelings?”   
  
Cyril blinked in confusion before shaking his head. “Ah. Reciprocate. Um… that means responding to my feelings in the same way, right? I think I read that in a dictionary before…”   
  
“That’s what it means, yes,” Seteth said, surprised at the rapid pace he had been learning to read and write. He supposed it was only fair, Lysithea was quite studious and it was only fair he had learned so quickly after spending so much time studying with her.   
  
Seteth blinked as he made the connection, dots linking together in his head. 

It made sense, he reasoned to himself, recalling the small amount of time he had spent studying with Lysithea five years prior to the fall of Garreg Mach.   
  
“You know who it is, don’t you Seteth?” Cyril mumbled, his cheeks flushed a light red.   
  
The older man simply glanced at him, his expression being one that Cyril couldn’t decipher at all. “Perhaps I may know something. But let’s leave that unspoken for now. Do wish to know how to approach proposing to this person in question?”   
  
Cyril shook his head. “Ah, no. I’m not really afraid of her saying no,” he cleared his throat as Seteth’s mouth dropped slightly, almost impressed by the confidence Cyril’s words if it weren’t for his crestfallen expression. “What I’m more afraid of is… her not being here anymore. Living I mean.”   
  
Seteth’s eyes widened. Did he know…? It was quite a closely guarded secret amongst very few people of the trauma Lysithea had to endure when she was younger, and the reason why she was so motivated to do her best not only during her academy days, but during the war efforts. Seteth was one of the few who knew, though he had only found out due to Hanneman blabbering about it in one of their conversations about his crest.    
  
And it would seem another would be added to that tally.   
  
“Living? What do you mean?” Seteth asked feigning ignorance.   
  
Cyril took another sip of the Almyran pine needle tea, confidence building within him a little more. “I… I’ve been having dreams of her as of late.”   
  
Seteth raised an eyebrow at Cyril. “Oh? Is that all? Do you need to have the talk? Did no one explain it to you when you were younger…?” he asked in an attempt to inject some light-hearted humor into the situation.   
  
“N-No! I don't want you to, but you don’t need to give me the talk either!” The young Almyran man sputtered, face flushed with red once more, recalling Claude and Hilda's awkward attempts to explain sex to him years ago. “It’s not like that. I’ve been having dreams that are nice and happy, but… I think- no, they  _ are _ disguised as nightmares. At first I didn’t realise it, but then as they kept on occurring it… it became more difficult to deal with them. I… I think I fell back asleep crying last time after I woke up from it.”   
  
Seteth shifted in his seat, completely caught off guard by what Cyril was telling him.    
  
“Lately, I keep having the same dream. Over and over again. I see me- an older me, sitting at a table. At the table, there’s two other people. They’re younger than I was back in my academy days. I even remember the names of them too,” Cyril smiled fondly, the gaze he had when recalling the dream bringing back intense memories of when Flayn was brought into the world. “Their names were Nasrin and Kourosh. Nasrin had white hair, while Kourosh had back hair, kinda like mine. All three of us happily eating food together, talking about our days before I realise there’s something- someone missing,” he says almost devoid of emotion.    
  
“ _ She’s _ never there. She’s never there sitting at the other end of the table. All I ever see is her ghost flashing by for a moment laughing along with the two younger kids, before it disappears. And then the dream continues, I see her again. She says something to me that I can’t hear, tears falling down her face- and then the dream ends. Sometimes, it plays on repeat, and it won’t stop until I wake up,” Cyril whispered, pushing out his cup towards the middle of the table. Silently, Seteth refills his cup and Cyril takes a large swig of the drink, downing it almost entirely. Seteth was thankful it was tea he was downing rather than alcohol like a certain other former professor.   
  
“I see a family. One where she should be in it. But she’s never there. And it scares me, Seteth.”   
  
“Cyril… I…”   
  
“S-so just imagine how I feel when I over hear her talking with Hanneman and she says that she doesn’t have much time to live!" Cyril exclaimed, his hands trembling, shaking the cup he was holding, ripples in the cup shattering the once visible reflection in the tea. “That after the war, she only has a few years until some experiment she had to endure catches up with her and kills her,” Cyril grit his teeth. “I should have known. She said told me she wasn’t going to be around to read things for me forever. I thought she was talking about going out separate ways after the war,” He continued, Cyril almost letting out an uncharacteristic growl. “I just… I just want her to be happy. Even if she doesn’t feel the same way- that’s okay! It really is! It’s just not fair for someone’s life to be cut so short, especially not… especially not Lysithea’s!”   
  
‘And there it is’, Seteth thought to himself. Cyril dipped his head and went deathly silent.   
  
“I like when she reads things to me. It makes her happy, so it makes me happy too. And her smile is pretty too,” Cyril smiled a little, thinking about their times spent together with a blush on his face, realising he was gushing about a girl to Seteth. He cleared his throat and continued. “I want to help her. But I don’t know how. I know nothing about magic or crests or anything like that. I barely know how to read as an adult, so how am I supposed to help make her better? What good is my training with axes, bows and wyvern riding going to do with something like that?” Cyril asked the older man, not expecting an answer from him.   
  
“I’ve been avoiding her for a little while now and haven’t written to her for a while, because I don’t want to make her upset by trying to help in the wrong way if I confront her about it. Especially because I feel so useless.”   
  
“Cyril,” Seteth finally spoke up, gaining Cyril’s attention, indicated by his head moving up and his eyes meeting Seteth’s. Seteth took note of the way Cyril’s mouth curved down and his eyebrows furrowed accentuating his anger and immediately knew he had to be careful when encroaching upon such a serious topic. “Do you happen to know the current whereabouts of Lysithea right now?”   
  
Cyril’s face dropped from his expressions of anger to one of deep thought, leaning his head against his fist. “Where is she now?” he asked aloud. “I… last I saw her, I walked past her when she was with Annette and Mercedes baking cakes in the dining hall’s kitchen. Why?”   
  
“When was the last time you talked to her? And I do not mean simple small talk. Recall, when was the last time you spoke to Lysithea?” Seteth took a sip of his tea, watching Cyril duck his head down and shrink away. “It’s… been a little while,” he mumbled.   
  
“I see. In that case, perhaps talking to Lysithea again may put your heart at ease for some time. It would seem from your description of your dreams and how you’ve reacted to them, that you even forget that the real Lysthiea is here, in the real world, in the flesh. And while it may be true that she way not have long to live, bottling up these intense feelings you are experiencing is not ideal for your emotional state.”   
  
Cyril tilted his head, clearly pickup up on what Seteth just implied moments before. “You… you know about her crests?”   
  
Seteth nodded. “Yes. Though, not intentionally by any means. Her secret is not mine to tell others. Regardless of what I know, there is something you know must know too,” Seteth leaned back, looking up to the ceiling. “Many years ago, I had a wife,” Seteth bluntly stated, catching Cyril off guard not expecting him to speak of something so personal to the older man. “ She was the love of my life. My light and my rock, you could say” Seteth smiled, his expression clearly forced. “But, due to certain circumstances… she died. At that time, I had many regrets. Though we had been married for some time, there were things I had left unsaid I wished to tell her before her passing. Things I wished- and still wish that we could do together. But the dead cannot commune with us, and neither can we,” Seteth lamented, glancing back down to Cyril.   
  
“For some time afterwards I… grew cold and distant towards Flayn,” Seteth shamefully admitted. “I held back my grief for my wife’s passing, my tears and my anger at not being able to prevent her passing the way she did. I did it in order to convince myself I was being strong for Flayn. She eventually confronted me about it, we had a rather intense argument and… I broke,” Seteth whispered alongside a quick sniffle. “We had never argued like that before, so it took me some time for my relationship with Flayn to repair. It was a long and intense process, one that none should ever have to go through.”   
  
“I see… I never knew that happened, and I’m sorry it did,” he sympathetically frowned. “But, um, I don’t want to sound rude, but where were you going with this with Lysithea and me?”   
  
“Cyril,” Seteth began, his tone somehow somber than before. “It is extremely clear to me that your time with Lysithea is not favoured by time. You do not have it to assist you like I did with Flayn. As such, I do believe that though you may perceive yourself as ‘pathetic’ and unable to help Lysithea, I do not believe that to be true. I believe that you are perfectly capable of helping her in your own way. In fact, you have already been doing so for some time now.”   
  
Cyril’s eyes widened, his face clearly showing signs of disbelief. “Y-you really think so?”   
  
“Earlier, as I recall, you stated that you just wanted Lysithea to be happy, yes? As much as this may come as a surprise to you, Lysithea has for some time- and still does dearly misses your company,” Seteth smiled, almost chuckling when Cyril’s face flushed a deep crimson.    
  
“D-does she really?” the young Almyran man gasped, unsure of what else to say.   
  
Seteth nodded. “But of course. She has confined in the professor and I multiple times about how she’s afraid that she has done something to upset you, and is afraid to confront you about it. She often spoke of how much the two of you used to spend time together; be it reading and writing together, enjoying meals throughout the day, and even fighting side-by-side with you on the battlefield. Though she would refuse to admit it, it is clear she is happiest when she’s around you, Cyril. Even the simplest of morning greetings from you brightens up her day tenfold. Do not ever forget that."

Cyril’s blush didn’t fade from his face, unaware of the extent Lysithea enjoyed their time together, and how upset she had been when he began to distance himself. His face dropped down before Seteth spoke up again, his tone now much more upbeat than before.   
  
“Chin up, Cyril. I will speak to Hanneman to provide updates on her condition, and perhaps ask Linhardt to see if he will be willing to assist Hanneman- not that he will say no,” Seteth said, amused by the thought of Linhardt saying no to anything crest related. “For now, we can only play our parts as needed. For you, that part is to comfort her where you can, and help her live her best life in the face of despair." Seteth assured him, placing a comforting hand on Cyril's shoulder. "Remember, she is still here amongst us so quell your fears for now. After all, you wish for Lysithea to be happy, yes?”   
  
Cyril nodded with a new fresh face full of determination. “Yes! Of course I do!”   
  
“Then go find her and be with her as best you can. Do what you can to make up for lost time,” Seteth implored, his smile widening when Cyril stood up, his demeanor suggesting he was more motivated to help Lysithea than he ever was to dedicating time to completing menial tasks for Rhea all those years ago. “Perhaps you could also honest with your feelings with her as well? I can not help but feel that she would reciprocate.”   
  
Cyril stood to his feet, face pajnted a deeper red, and Seteth stood up after him. “Okay. I’ll do my best to make her bappy." Cyril suddenly coughed violently into his elbow when it registered in head what he blurted out. "U-um, anyway, thanks for the talk Seteth,” Cyril thanked him, holding out a hand to shake, which Seteth took in his hand, shaking it. “It… it meant a lot to me.”   
  
“I am just glad I could assist you with your predicament, Cyril,” Seteth nodded, Cyril’s smile now widening just a little more as he said his goodbyes and left Seteth’s quarters, quickly jogging down the hallway towards the stairs down.

"Bappy…" Seteth chuckled, beginning to clean up the table for his next visitor.   
  
…   
  
Behind the door, after hearing Cyril disappear down the stairs, a sobbing Lysithea fell to her feet, her face flared up in a permanent state of red, her heart beating out of her chest.   
  
“Cyril, you dummy.” Lysithea sobbed with a wide smile on her face, wiping her eyes. “I’m going to do it. I’ll try my best to live, to make you bappy too...”   
  
  


* * *

  
Lysithea returned home to help her parents restore their family land, surprised to find Hanneman and Linhardt appear in Ordelia territory a year later. After a great deal of effort, the two managed to rid Lysithea of her crests, restoring her body’s functions back to normalcy. Before they left, the two men informed Lysithea of Cyril’s journey around Foldan and beyond, who had played a key role in the speedy development of the removal of her crests.

Shocked by this revelation, some years later when her work was done, she returned to Garreg Mach to relinquish her claim to nobility, ring in hand. When she and Cyril reunited they threw themselves at each other with simultaneous proposals of marriage. They both returned to Ordelia territory, where they had a modest wedding with Seteth attending the ceremony as Cyril’s father. They were soon blessed with two kids: Nasrin and Kourosh, of whom they loved dearly, living a quiet and happy life for the rest of their days.

**Author's Note:**

> Nasrin and Kourosh are Cysithea OCs made by @Renfuros on twitter! Make sure to give them a follow! 
> 
> And yes, I am back!
> 
> Kinda. Sorta. If I'm being honest, I've never written Cyril, Seteth or Lysithea at all, so I don't think I have a good grasp on their personalities even after watching a whole bunch of their supports tbh? So my apologies if they seem ooc, I'm trying my best. Also, don't expect too much output from me for a while. I still wanna write those CasHil and Ashtra fics, but writers block is killing me in regards to those, but I'll eventually get around to them.
> 
> Oh yeah, as the tags indicated, someone on the grapevine told me that Cysithea Week is in Feb 2020 next year, so look forward to that!
> 
> Have a good one!


End file.
